


Soldier, Poet, King

by Hot_Damn_its_Kam



Series: Remember The Love [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: But it's not really a relationship??, Councilors, Doctors, Flaashbacks, Henry Laurens' A+ Parenting, Hidden Relationship, Idk you'll get it, M/M, Major Depressive Disorder, Medication, Music Lessons, Music lessons as a cover, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad John Laurens, Secret Relationships, Songwriting, music lessons as a coping mechanism, past trauma, semi-relationship, working through issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24482434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hot_Damn_its_Kam/pseuds/Hot_Damn_its_Kam
Summary: John has to come to terms with the fact that he is not actually fine, and the road to being "fine" is not an easy or smooth one. Alex, though, is a few steps ahead, is there to be supportive. Drama be damned, John was going to get through this, even though he thinks he already has.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens
Series: Remember The Love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1768414
Comments: 25
Kudos: 62





	1. Wishing you Farewell

**Author's Note:**

> Heads up, not going to be posting trigger warnings unless it's something I've not written/touched on in chapters/works previous. If it's new, ofc, I'll add a warning, but it just gets redundant after a while. Read the tags, use discretion about subject matter. Know your limits. Trust yourself. MWAH
> 
> (Pssst, same headcanon where John writes all my fav songs don't hurt me)
> 
> Also, please read the end notes.
> 
> Say Hi on Tumblr! @thekookiestkandi

o n e y e a r l a t e r

* * *

_"Well you almost had me fooled_

_Told me that I was nothing without you_

_Oh, but after everything you've done_

_I can thank you for how strong I have-_

John's fingers paused on the keys, a sob bubbling in the back of his throat.

Skipped that bit.

_"I'm proud of..._

I'm damn lying."

John said

to no one

to everyone

the fallboard slammed

No more

please

no more

* * *

Dinner was normal, more or less. John poked at his chicken tikka. Takeout, since Martha had gone to visit her sister Ann. Alex was yammering about his latest debate victory, Laf inserting friendly insults where he could.

Pushing his chicken and rice around, he snapped out of weird curry-induced trance when Alex nudged him with his elbow, "All good?"

John blinked a few times, "Huh, oh yeah..." Alex gave him a disbelieving look, and Laf quirked an eyebrow, so he followed with, "Just a little writer's block is all. Guess I let it get to me, sorry."

That was a good enough excuse for Laf, so he went back to inhaling his second container of butter paneer. _M_ _an,_ that boy could eat. But Alex gave John's knee a squeeze under the table, he was still concerned. John gave him his best smile, "Piano lesson later?" Alex asked, their code word for 'meet in the music room and maybe play the piano but most likely talk for hours'.

George watched the exchange, thankfully missing Alex's not-so-subtle move. John and Alex have yet to take anything further since that evening in John's bedroom the year before. Sure, they would hint subtly, make jokes, but they both knew that it was likely a conflict of interest for them to be doing anything at the moment.

Sure enough, they ended up down in the basement-turned-music-studio, with John shaking and almost in tears before Alex had even said a word. John leaned forward on the piano bench and buried his face in his hands. Alex sighed, rubbing his back, "Jacky, what's going on? You've been doing really well! Everyone has. What's up?"

John sighed, _taking a breath deep enough to do so was likely beneficial,_ _Alex noted,_ and looked up, "I thought I was ready to tackle how I felt. Really push forward and move on, I guess and then I got in my head. **He** got in my head. And I tried writing and I just- I just, I-I, I couldn't... I didn't..." he dissolved into word-lessness, forcing tears back.

"Hey, it's okay that you're not ready," Alex comforted, "I mean, I still struggle with, you know, knowing that I'm in a place where I'm safe and wanted, despite my many, _many_ flaws, and... I've learned you just gotta be okay with not being okay. It's only been a year since you've moved in fully, since you've been away, and he's not gonna leave your mind like," he snaps, "that. But you've made leaps and bounds of progress, your therapist told us, remember?"

"But he's not here all the time. He doesn't see..." John waved his hands wildly, " this! "

Alex chewed his lip, "No he doesn't, but Dr. Norman said-"

John snapped back, "Dr. Norman says a lot of things, and frankly, I just want him to be honest. Everyone treats me with kid-gloves, even him, and every time I'm honest with him, he just makes some cheery remark. What happened to me was not _cheery_. It was scary and disgusting, and I never want to feel like that again and he doesn't get it!"

"So you get a new therapist."

"That's not the problem Alexander!"

Alex rolled his eyes, "Fine, you don't want kid-gloves, fine. You're being completely irrational and you're making it really hard to want to help you right now. What-is-the-problem?"

John forced back a surprised look, knowing that Alex would get more upset if he looked hurt. He knew Alex was right. Alex was always right. So he just kind of sat there, deflated.

Alex frowned, "Look Jack, I love you, but you need to know what you want before you ask for it. No one can help you when you're like this."

"I know," A warbly whisper said from behind John's hand.

"Jack, are you crying?"

A shrug.

Tight arms around John's torso, face in his shoulder.

"John, hun, what is _wrong?_ " Alex mumbled into John's shoulder, feeling him shake with tears.

"I don't want to feel like this anymore," John whispered, "He's gone, it's over, I'm safe, and I still feel... I still feel..."

"Unworthy, deserving of pain?" Alex supplied.

_"Yes."_

Alex squeezed him tighter, "Jacky, you are so worthy. You deserve only love, safety, and kindness. _Especially_ after what you've gone through."

No response this time.

"John?"

"I don't want to feel like this anymore."

"I heard you."

"What do I do?"

"You know I can't answer that." Alex was practically holding John upright now, rocking him back and forth, "But I can tell you this: I'll be here, through all the ups, and all the downs. Okay?"

"Okay..." John cried, feeling tears drop onto his uniform slacks. He'd yet to change from the school day.

"I love you," Alex said, pressing a kiss to John's temple, "I love you."

John nodded, "Love ya too... Let's finish your lesson," he said, pulling out of Alex's embrace.

Alex frowned, "Are you sure you're feeling up to-"

"Please?"

"Okay."

* * *

John fiddled with the razor blade. He'd come so far, hadn't touched one for months. He didn't want to, but this was the only thing that would make this awful feeling go away. It burned deep in his gut, drilled his brain. _T_ _he only thing you deserve to feel is pain. This is too much. Who would love such a disgusting, twisted creature?_

He felt sick, and the weight of the razor was heavy in his hand. He pushed up his sleeve. _Alex would be so crushed._ John squeezed his eyes shut pressed the cold blade to his forearm.

"John, we're going to watch Grumpy Old Men if you'd like to-" George took in the scene in front of him, "Hey! Put that down, no, no. John-"

John's eyes flew open, and he tossed the blade across the room and flew away from it. 

_he'smaddon'thurtmeididn'titit'snottruei'msorrydon'thurtmeiwon'tdoitagainipromisejuststayawaystayawaystayaway_

**"STAY AWAY!"** John screamed, causing George to jump.

Drawn by the calamity, the rest of the family made their way toward John's room.

Laf tiptoed over, spoke slow, soothing words.

John flinched.

Alex crouched next to him, held him tight, rocked him.

John screeched.

Martha called John's sister.

John cried and begged for forgiveness.

No one slept that night.

* * *

T h e N e x t N i g h t

He hadn't left his room since the previous evening. He was too embarrassed. He went to school and shut himself away.

Alex peeped in, "Knock knock?"

John looked up, stretched a small but genuine smile across his face.

Alex's body visibly relaxed, seeing that John was more or less okay, "I made you a plate. Martha figured you weren't hungry, but I told her you would be."

"Thanks," John said, motioning for Alex to come in.

"So, are we gonna talk about it?"

"What is there to say?"

"Did you relapse?"

"Almost, but uh... no."

"Did you want to do it?"

"I felt like I had to."

"But did you _want_ to?"

John gulped, "No. Didn't want to hurt you."

Alex sighed, setting the plate of Chicken and veggies on the desk, "What happened?"

"After I talked with you the other night I just... haven't been able to push that feeling away. It just kept growing and growing and growing until it was the only thing I could think about. I needed to feel some form of... of... punishment."

"For what?"

"I dunno. Being greedy? Making you feel bad? Taking Laf's parents from him? Being gay? Loving you, even though it's an unspoken rule that I probably shouldn't?"

The wheels started turning, "So... you're saying this stems from... guilt?"

John blinked, making the realization, "Yeah, I-I guess so."

"Well, you have an appointment with Dr. Knowles tomorrow."

John looked confused, "But that's not-"

"I told Martha that your therapist wasn't helping. She made you an appointment with a new one."

"Wow, uh... thanks."

"Mhm."

"You're... amazing." John blurted.

Alex shook his head, "Only trying my best."

"I love you."

"Love you too."

* * *

"How was it?" Martha asked as John exited the office suite after his appointment with his new therapist. Deja Vu. John had seen all of this before. This wasn't progress, this was back to square one. Right?

"Fine. I like her better." John said, but Martha was all knowing.

"If that's the case, then why is it bothering you?"

John wrung his hands as they reached the elevator, "I-I don't know. Just feels like... feels like I'm not making any progress. New therapist, recurring problems, I'm not doing better. Am I not supposed to be doing better?"

Martha sighed, pressing the ground-level button, "This is not an easy road, John. You've been through something extremely traumatic, and even after you've been removed from that situation, it never _really_ goes away. Sure, you work through it, you get better, but it doesn't just vanish. You _have_ been doing well! This is just a bump in the road, okay sweetie?"

John looked at her, not wanting to understand, but knowing she was right, "Yeah."

"I know it's hard to see the progress, but I assure you, everyone from the outside can see how much better you're doing. You're breaking down walls, you're holding healthy relationships, you're communicating, well, more or less, and you've been so much happier in the past few months than I think I've ever seen you. So no, we can't make it go away, and no, recovery is not going to be a straight and narrow path, but bumps in the road only reinforce what is most important along the way."

He nodded, "Yeah, I know. You're always right."

"Perhaps you could remind my husband of that," She joked, and John laughed, and it felt _good._

* * *

F r i d a y A f t e r n o o n

John sat in the breakfast nook, trying to decipher his pre-cal homework, but it wasn't working.

"John, may I speak with you?" George called from the nearby study.

John instantly tensed, feeling queasy. _This is it. They're sending you back, but Aunt Carol doesn't even like you-_

"Yes sir!" He scampered into the office.

George gestured toward a chair, "I wanted to talk to you about something. Before I begin, I want you to know that the ball is in your court, and you only have to make this decision if you feel it's best, alright?"

John nodded slowly, dropping into the velvet seat, "O...kay?"

"I think that you show a lot of symptoms of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I can only recognize it because it's something I've struggled with myself," John nodded. He knew that. George had served in the Army for 19 years, "And I think you would benefit from seeing a psychiatrist."

"I'm already seeing someone," John blurted.

George smiled fondly, "You're seeing a councilor. Your new therapist is not qualified to make medical diagnoses or prescribe medication or more behavioral therapy. So... again you only have to do this if you want to, I have a recommendation for a doctor who specializes in cases like yours and Alexander. Actually, Alexander has already been seeing her and he's been put on medication, and-"

"And he's doing loads better," John finished, knowing that it was true.

George gave him another kind smile, "Like I said, ball's in your court. If you're uncomfortable, we'll support you, but I really think you'd benefit from it."

There was a long pause.

"Can I sleep on it?"

George nodded, "Of course. Let me know whenever you're ready."

"Thank you, George."

He nodded, and John got up to leave. Paused in the doorway, "And about the other night-"

"Forgiven, forgotten, moved on. I know that wasn't you."

John nodded and swung out of the room, George's last words ringing in his head.

_I know that wasn't you_

_I know that wasn't you_

John suddenly felt sick. If it wasn't him, then who was it?

* * *

He knocked on Alex's door. "Come in!" John entered, feeling lighter and happier as soon as he saw Alexander, "Hey you!"

John grinned, "Hey 'Lex."

"What are you up to?"

John shrugged, "Homework, chatting with George."

Alex pulled a face, "You almost never talk to him. Not more than you have to, doesn't it freak you out?"

John rolled his eyes, "Pot, meet Kettle."

Alex chuckled, "What'd you talk about?"

"Uh..." John's fingers twisted, a nervous habit Alex noticed in him.

"Jacky, you don't have to tell me if you don't feel comfortable."

John shook his head, "It's just... embarrassing."

"Did you guys have the safe sex talk or something?"

John laughed, "Uh, no. He uh, he wants me to see your psychiatrist."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Pregnant pause.

Alex reached for his hand. It was sweaty, and John tried to pull it away to wipe it, but Alex stayed his grip.

"John, what do you have to lose? Just one appointment won't be so bad."

John gulped, "I'm not crazy, I don't need medication."

Alex ran his thumb over John's knuckles, "No, you're not crazy, but you might need medication. It's helped me."

"I'm not you." John muttered.

"What does that mean?" Alex sounded a little hurt.

"I'm not strong, I don't know everything, I don't know what I'm thinking all the time."

Alex giggled, "I'm not any of those things, that's all just state of mind."

John looked at him properly, "I don't know how I feel about it. I don't want to take meds to make the person I'm supposed to be. Am I not the person I'm supposed to be?"

Alex squeezed his hand now, "It's not like that, there's a lot of science behind it that I can't explain to you. But do you know who can?"

"Who?"

"Dr. Austin."

John sighed, "Why is everyone always right? Why am I always wrong?"

Alex kissed his knuckles, "Just feels that way, love."

John felt his cheeks burn at the name.

Alex laughed, checked to make sure the door was shut before giving John a chaste kiss on the lips.

"I guess I'll give it a shot," John mumbled, "But can you- can you come with me?"

"I'll ask Dr. A. and George, okay?"

John nodded, "Don't wanna do it alone..."

"You're never alone."

* * *

T w o W e e k s L a t e r

They left Dr. Austin's office and went straight to the pharmacy. George drove them. It was times like these where it really hurt that Alex couldn't hold his hand, couldn't hold him, whisper that everything is going to be okay. 

John's Diagnosis: Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and Major Depressive Disorder

John's Prescriptions: Paxil and Vortioxetine for every day, Xanax for emergencies`

John's mood: Sour.

As George withdrew from the pharmacy counter and made his way back to the snack aisle where John and Alex were chatting and picking out junk food, he caught snippets of a conversation.

"It was not a mistake, John."

"I really don't think it'll work."

"How do you _know?_ Just try, what've you got to lose?"

"You," John said, tears choking him and threatening to spill.

"Jack..." Alex was going to reach for his hand, but thankfully saw George approaching when he turned around. 

George held up the bag of pill bottles. It was unsettlingly large.

John tensed, and Alex reached over and squeezed his shoulder, whispering, "Va a estar bien,"

John's face squinched, and nodded. George had gotten used to the two of them speaking Spanish to each other, though the first time had been a surprise-- It had also been during one of John's first major attacks...? Flashbacks? George kicks himself for not knowing the difference.

"Did you pick out your treat?" George asked.

Alex laughed, "I did, what did you want Jack?"

John reached for a bag of gummi bears, really just wanting to go home.

Alex raised a brow, and grabbed John a pack of Cheetos once his back was turned, knowing that he probably wanted those more than the candy.

The ride home was eerily quiet.

John kept having to remind himself to breathe, the plunging, frigid cold water, tight-seizing anxiety of his first psychiatrist's appointment wrapping around him like a boa constrictor.

Alex sighed, tapping John's fingers, asking silently for permission when John went ahead and took his hand. Alex smiled, and squeezed it.

This time, George saw.


	2. Cough Syrup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PANIC ATTACK PRETTY EARLY IN THE CHAPTER JUST A HEADS UP OK LOVE YA BYE

John knew they'd been spotted when George quickly averted his gaze from the boys through the rear-view mirror. He gasped, and snatched his hand back, _no no nono nonononononononononononononononononono..._

Alex gave him a quizzical look, but John just stared down at his feet, his lips tightly pursed and eyes wide and glassy.

"John? Are you okay?"

A tiny, broken whimper was his only response.

"Jack, estas conmigo?"

John bit down hard on his lip, and let out a sharp, shuttering sob. Not again...

Alex made eye contact with George through the mirror and George pulled the car over.

Alex unbuckled his seat belt and scooted over to John in the back seat.

"Hey, Jack. Can you hear me?"

It took a moment before John could muster up a single nod.

"Okay, can I touch you?"

Wild shaking of the head. Yeah, that's a hard no.

"Okay," Alex whispered, "Okay, can you talk to me? Will you run through your questions with me?"

That same pained, _sharp_ sob again.

"Jacky, breathe, _please_." Alex begged, wanting so bad to take the poor guy in his arms and squeeze him.

John forced a gasp for air, but not before covering his ears, twisting his fingers in his hair.

"Good, good, hey, can you still hear me?"

John voice was a tiny, raspy whisper, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I promise I didn't mean to just please don't not again no, no, no, no, no no no no _NO!_ "

Anger gripped Alex's throat as he looked over to George for help.

George looked conflicted, on one hand, he knew that John wouldn't be responsive unless he had some kind of outside stimulus, because grounding him was always a hard task, but he knew it would be completely disastrous to touch him. 

"Alex, will you hold his hand again?"

Alex frowned, "I-I don't think-"

"Be gentle," George instructed, "Speak softly, and explain everything you're doing before you do it and as you're doing it. Okay?"

Alex gulped and nodded, peering over at John, broken down and terrified.

He took a deep breath, and tried to get his face in John's view, even though his eyes were screwed shut, "John, hey, I'm gonna take your hands off your ears, okay? I know you said you don't want touching, but I really need you to calm down. I need you to be here with me, so if you can't look at me, if you can't breathe, if you can't communicate I need you to know that I am here. I'm just going to take your hands down, slow and steady, okay?" He reached for John's fingertips, touching them with careful softness. John flinched, but didn't fight it.

"Just going to take this hand... there we go. See, no reason to be scared," Alex soothed, lacing his fingers with John's left hand, "Are you with me now?"

"Mm..." John confirmed with a soft whimper.

"Okay, can I have your other hand?"

John gulped, opened his eyes and placed his hand into Alex's outstretched one.

When John's eyes opened, Alex beamed, "Hi, honey, hello. Are you back?"

John's eyes scanned Alex's face with terror, but he nodded.

"Can you breathe with me, then?

Another nod.

"In- One, Two, Three, Four..."

They stayed on the side of the road for over an hour, John eventually giving in to Alex's warm magnetism and perching his head on his shoulder.

George watched the scene carefully, still not fully understanding what had unfolded. It wasn't any of his business, but it was clearly very intimate. He felt... unsettled was not the word, but not quite confused either.

Once they were back on their way, Alex buckled into the center seat next to John and John just lay on Alex's shoulder, eyes shut and taking long, shuddery breaths.

When they arrived at home, John was pretty wobbly and out of it, everything felt murky, like he were in dirty water, so Alex helped him out of the car and into the house.

Martha was waiting in the parlor in the chair nearest the front door wanting to know how the appointment had gone. Her question was answered when Alex came in holding up a disheveled John by his underarms.

George followed, looking... sad, to put it plainly.

Martha and George had a silent conversation, and George's eyes brimmed.

"Oh dear..." Martha whispered, wrapping her arms around her husband.

"What do we do?" George mumbled into Martha's hair, reciprocating the hug.

"What happened?" She asked in lieu of answering.

George pulled back and wiped his eyes, "Um, he was pretty overwhelmed during his appointment, Dr. Austin said. We stopped for prescriptions on the way home-"

"Right you texted me about that."

"Yeah, and then John was really anxious at CVS and Alex tried to talk him down but he just kept doing that downward spiral thing. In the car, him and Alex were holding hands and I saw and he... flipped out. Had a pretty severe attack, erm, maybe a flashback, he did say some incoherent things but it was really just hard to tell, and I didn't know what to do. I was... frozen. I'm a father, I should be able to help him! I eventually had Alex calm him down, but he's still _really_ out of it."

Martha pursed her lips and sighed, "That's a lot."

"It's so much."

"What was he prescribed?"

George opened the bag of bottles, "SSRIs for anxiety and the C-PTSD, um, anti-depressants, and Xanax, for emergencies, I should have given him one in the car, damnit.."

Martha shook her head, "No, I don't think so, we still don't know how he'll react to any of those so... it's for the best you handled this the way you did."

George nodded, running a hand over the top of his head.

"Darling, he'll be alright. He just needs some rest and reassurance, remember?"

"You didn't see it. He was terrified of me..."

"So was Alexander for the longest time."

George groaned, "He still is!"

"But he trusts you, you just need to rebuild that trust with John. He's been let down by his father, and you're filling those shoes now, you can't blame him for being afraid."

He nods, "Of course, of course, I don't blame him, 's just hard."

"I know love, but we will _all_ get through this, you have my word."

George smiles, "I married one of the good ones."

Martha shoots him a sassy glare, "Took you long enough to figure that out."

* * *

"How do you feel?" Alex queried after John'd had a few minutes to decompress.

"Terrible, George knows, he has to know, right?"

Alex sighed, "Listen, I don't think he knows what's really going on, and even if he did, he would be understanding. We haven't broken any rules, we're keeping things pretty neutral. Okay? We'll be fine, you're fine."

John looked pitiful, "I don't wanna leave..." he squeaked.

Alex frowned, "You're not going anywhere."

"No, no," John shook his head, "They'll send me off to live with Carol like the rest of my siblings, I can't live with Carol, she hates me!"

"They're not sending you anywhere, okay? But... why would she hate you?"

John gulped, "After my mom got pregnant with me, father had to marry her. She's not too fond of my mother. Or me, for that matter. But she loves the rest of my siblings, she just blames me for 'soiling the Laurens bloodline'."

Alex looks unamused, "The only one poisoning that family is her and your father," he spat.

John winced and shrugged.

"John, you don't seriously believe that, do you?"

Another shrug, "I guess... my family is kinda Charleston Royalty, my dad only came here because he tried to run for president. Blew up in his face, mom died, he started drinking, if I hadn't come along maybe he wouldn't have failed."

Alex shook his head, "You're so amazing, how anyone else could see otherwise baffles me..." he said wistfully.

John sighs and flops back down on his bed.

"Still feel lousy?" Alex asks.

"Still feel a lot of things, but I'm not tired, oddly enough."

"Mm..." Alex hummed.

"I think I'll head down to the music room for a bit."

"You want me to come with?"

John looked at Alex, hesitating.

Alex got the message, "No worries, I'll be here when you come back."

John mouthed "thank you" and scurried off.

About an hour and a half later, Alex got a text.

**> From: John**

So I scrapped that other thing I was working on and I'm on kind of a roll here, wanna come down? I wanna run it by u

**> From: Lex**

OMW

Alex scurried down the steps to find John plucking a guitar fingerstyle on a wooden stool.

John looked up at him and beamed, "Hey! I uh... I think I was really able to channel my thoughts and I feel really good about it..." he said the last part a little bashfully.

Alex smiled right back, sitting on another stool across from him.

John fingered a bouncy but morose melody, kind of clicking a beat with his mouth and bobbing his head, "Drums kinda like that?"

"Uh huh..." Alex prompted.

And then John sang -

_"Life's too short to even care at all oh-oh_

  
_I'm losing my mind-_

_losing my mind-_

_losing con... tro-oh-oh-l-_

  
_These fishes in the sea-_

_they're staring at me-_

_oh oh oh oh oh oh_

  
_A wet world aches for a beat of a drum, oh-oh_

_If I could find_

_a way_

_to see this straight,_

_I'd run_

_away_   
_To some fortune that_

_I, I_

_should have found..._

_by now_

  
_I'm waiting for this_

_cough syrup_

_to come down,_

_come down"_

A little more guitar,

then:

_"Life's too short to even care at all oh-oh_

  
_I'm coming up now-_

_coming up now-_

_out of the blue-oh-oh_

  
_These zombies in the park_

_they're looking for my heart_

_oh oh oh oh_   
_A dark world aches for a splash of the sun oh-oh_

_If I could find a way_

_to see this straight,_

_I'd run away_   
_To some fortune that_

_I, I_

_should have found_

_by now_

_And so I run to the things they said could restore me_

  
_Restore life the way it should be_

  
_I'm waiting for this_

_cough syrup to come down"_

He paused the guitar, now only tapping his foot.

_"Life's too short to even care at all oh-oh_

  
_I'm losing my mind-_

_losing my mind-_

_losing contro-oh-oh-l"_

Now he played a running strum pattern, it was hypnotizing.

_"If I could find a way!_

_to see this straight,_

_I'd_

_run! away_   
_To some fortune that_

_I, I_

_should have found_

_by now_

_And so I run to the things they said could_

_restore me_   
_Restore life_

_the way it should be_

  
_I'm waiting for this cough syrup to come down"_

He slowed down, closing the song

_"One more spoon of cough syrup now whoa..._

  
_One more spoon of cough syrup now whoa... whoa..."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor George... that hurt most to write. Is anyone else's heart in pieces? oW
> 
> In case you're unfamiliar with the song John "wrote" this chapter, it's called Cough Syrup and it's by Young The Giant, one of my fav bands, listen to it, good stuffs. Thanks so much for the love and support, I'm a little stuck for Ideas for the next addition to the series that is yet to be named, so pls pls pls send some ideas if you have any??

**Author's Note:**

> DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNN cliffhanger #sorrynotsorry
> 
> \-----*****-----
> 
> I understand the original connotation of Kesha's "Praying" (which I DO NOT own, fyi), but given the universality of the song to abuse victims, I picked it for this work. Please, don't burn me at the stake. I love and respect for what the song is, but the amazing thing about music is that one person can see one meaning, but someone else can see it in a completely different light. Thanks, Hugs and kisses!
> 
> ALSO! Just wanted to say that writing John and Alex's dynamic is so much fun. Alex keeping John's spiraling in check, John forcing Alex to feel instead of trying to be everyone's rock. Their not-so-relationship because they don't know where boundaries are... mmmm SO GOOD. It's what I live for-- Well, that and comments. Next addition to -the series that is yet to be named- in the works. Also, comment some good series names? I don't want a generic "LAMS FOSTER CARE AU"
> 
> This work was tough as 600 year old bison jerky, and it's pretty damn long so my apologies. It really was a bitch to write because it's really hard to break into John's mind, and even harder to get out of that headspace. Took a toll, maybe six years off my life, but meh, I'll be okay. If you have any questions, comments, critiques, compliments, ideas, requests or literally anything you want to say, leave a comment!! I also love emailing you! sorryapple200404@yahoo.com OR!! @thekookiestkandi on tumblr!


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